Remember that time in the hotel?
by AnonRokr
Summary: James has second thoughts about Maria and decides do fix his mistake, which warps his world and forces him to return to Silent Hill. Rated M for violence, language, and gore.
1. Chapter 1

this is just a little Silent Hill one shot that popped into my head. It takes place a few weeks after James' ordeal.

I don't own James or Maria or anything else to do with Silent Hill.

* * *

"Maria?"

"What is it, James?" She coughs halfway through the sentence, muffling the sound of my name on her lips.

"I've been thinking a lot lately..."

She rolls across the bed in our cheap hotel room. "You shouldn't do that so much, you might hurt yourself." I feel the weight of her head on my chest; her arms wrap around my waist. Another cough leaves her mouth and for a moment I'm reminded of the last night I spent with Mary.

My hand finds it's way into her hair. "I can't help it. I just keep going back to Silent Hill... Angela, Eddie, Laura, that pyramid thing, all of it."

Maria pulls away, looking me in the eyes. "That was weeks ago! Just put it behind you. I'm here now, there's nothing to worry about." She places a quick kiss on my neck and I smile despite the thoughts swirling around my head. "Well, you might as well tell me what has you so bothered."

I shake my head, "You died three times while we were there. I actually watched twice. But here you are lying next to me like nothing ever happened." I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and get up, not bothering to put any clothes back on. It's nice not having to worry about modesty around her.

"What are you talking about?" She laughs. "How could I be here if I died?" The sheets fall off as she shifts into a more comfortable position. I'm glad she doesn't worry about modesty around me.

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" Now I'm pacing around, searching for my pants. "How could you die three times but still be here? it doesn't make any sense." Aha! There are the pants, now just a shirt and shoes and I'll be in business. "I actually have a few theories about it..."

"James, you're not making any sen--" I slip on a fresh shirt as she coughs. I'm already tying my shoes by the time she finishes. "Sorry. You're not making any sense. For one: I think I would remember being stabbed, and for two: I'm here! See James, I'm real." She places a hand on my knee to further her argument. "Why are you getting dressed?"

"I'm gonna swing by the bar for a nightcap. Should I bring you something back?" I ask more out of courtesy than an actual desire to please her. Not that I don't want her to be happy- I'd just like to be alone for a little while.

Blond hair obscures her face as she shakes her head, "No thanks I think I'll just go straight to bed. It's getting late." A glance at the clock informs me that it's already 12:30. "Are you sure you're ok?" she asks as I walk to the door.

"Yeah, you get some rest and don't worry about me." I hear her coughing as I slowly close the door. Maria...

* * *

"Last call, Mac." The burly man tending bar says "You want a refill?" He kind of looks like Eddie now that I think about it. More muscular, and thinner, but I can definitely see a resemblance.

I glance at my Bourbon on the rocks before downing the last of it. "Why not?" I ask, sliding my glass across the lacquered bar top. "Get yourself something too, I should probably have at least one with someone else. Otherwise I'd be an alcoholic on top of being clinically insane."

"Heh," The man laughs, "That's funny you should try stand-up. So, what's yer name?"

"James Sunderland."

"Well James, you can call me Scott." He places my Bourbon on the bar and we toast before we start drinking. He sighs as he sets his glass down."Now then, what's the matter?"

"What do you mean?"

"The only people who step into this bar are hookers between jobs or unhappy men fixin' to drown their sorrows." He glances at my frame, "I'm guessing you're the latter."

I laugh for the first time all night, "Your observational skills abound." After a pause I take another sip of alcohol. "Well Scott, have you ever questioned your surroundings? Like, maybe you're fooling yourself into seeing things that aren't there."

"Can't say I have, but that does sound like some fucked up shit."

"Yeah. I've basically been having something of an identity crisis lately." My drink is already nearly gone... I think I'm an alcoholic. "It's gotten to the point that I don't know for sure what's real and what's not."

"Well, am I real?"

His face seems to blur for a moment, it reminds me of those monsters... That's gotta be the alcohol. "Yeah, I think you're real."

Scott grins and I come to the conclusion that he's a good guy. Intimidating, but good. "If that's the case do you wanna go do somethin'?" His hand brushes against mine. Funny, I didn't get a gay vibe from him.

"Now I'm starting to think you're not real." I laugh before finishing my drink. "Sorry, but you're not really my type."

"Not imaginary enough for you?" he jokes, grinning.

"Yeah." I stand and leave him a big tip before turning to leave. "But I do hope you find the right guy."

I hear him drop our glasses into a sink. "James!" Scott yells before I close the door.

"Yeah?"

"If I were you I'd try to weed anything I was imagining out of my life. Living a lie ain't healthy, trust me."

I take a moment to let his words sink in. I probably look like an idiot standing in the door like this... "Thanks Scott, I'll do that." I wave before the door slams shut.

The lobby of this place is actually kinda nice. I mean, it's no Hilton, but still nice. I smell the Pine-sol they used on the floors as I walk toward the receptionist. She's a pretty thing, no older than 20. kinda reminds me of Angela if shit hadn't gone sour for her... She's looking at me now, smiling. Pretending that her only joy in life is pleasing customers, when she really doesn't give a flying fuck. Civil service is funny that way.

"Anything I can do for you sir?" She asks sweetly.

"I just need an extra pillow. I hurt my ankle earlier and I think I should keep it propped up." I can lie on a whim too, you happy bitch.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She says, handing me a pillow from the closet. I don't even bother to say thank you because I'm already tired of looking at her. "Have a nice night!" She practically shouts. "Jerk." she adds, softly, once I enter the hallway.

"Twat." I whisper to the walls. After turning a corner I come face to face- well, more like crotch to face with a small blond boy.

"You're not supposed to say words like that, they're dirty." He scolds.

"Get back to your room, you imaginary piece of shit." I hiss, Pushing him out of my way. He makes a small objection and I throw a kick in his direction, that scares him away from my door.

Wheezing. That's all I hear when I push my ear against the door to my room. Maria must be asleep, I'm not shocked. Slowly my key slips into the lock and clicks as it turns. Then the door creaks as I open it. Ironic how when you want to be quiet the world doesn't let you. I don't bother to shut the door, that would be too loud.

All I can hear is that fucking wheezing as I inch closer to the bed. Now I'm standing over Maria and I get a good look at her. Her makeup is smeared a little, but still mostly in place; almost like she'd been turning tricks. She reminds me of the lobby of this place. On the outside everything is attractive, neat. Behind closed doors everything is a mess. Shine a blacklight on the carpeting in this place and you'd find any number of stains; most likely from bodily fluids. I wonder what Kind of stains I'd find on Maria. Finally, I decide to pull the sheets up, it's kinda cold in here and she should be comfortable.

I give the pillow I'm holding a good squeeze and Scott's words flash through my mind, "Living a lie ain't healthy." I lift the pillow toward Maria as I start breathing heavily. She coughs and in an instant I make up my mind. Now I press it against her face, just hard enough to cut off the airflow but not wake her up.

She doesn't even move. Doesn't twitch. Doesn't fight back. Hell, I'm shocked she wasn't dead when I walked in here since I don't need her anymore.

After a few moments the wheezing is gone, now there is only silence. It's funny, I don't even feel guilty. I feel liberated, it's like a weight was lifted off my chest. I'm actually expecting her body to shimmer away as I stand here. It doesn't.

I had to do this. I know that now. I've been living in the past and she is _not _Mary. She was nothing more than another monster. Another pyramid thing I created to torture myself. I'm finished with that; finished with her. Now that she's gone I have no connections to Silent Hill. The town doesn't need me anymore and I don't need it. The room falls into darkness as the light bulb burns out. I practically expect a siren to sound in the distance and the paint to peel off the walls. That's my cue to leave.

I slam the door this time, Who cares if anyone hears me? The kid is still out here. He's staring at me and I don't give a damn. "What did you do that for mister?" He's holding his teddybear tightly, like it'll do him any good.

"Sometimes history has to repeat itself, kid." I answer, "If you don't learn a lesson the first time around god, or fate, or whatever makes you try it again." I kneel down to his level, "Maybe you'll understand when you're older, here." I pull my portable radio out of my pocket and place it in his hand. "That's gotten me out of some bad spots."

The kid turns it on and no sound comes out. "It's broken. You're stupid for even keeping it." He throws it to the ground and runs away.

"Suit yourself kid." I toss the thing into the nearest trash bin. I'm sure I won't be needing it anymore anyway.

As I enter the lobby I see Scott locking up the bar, so I wait for him. I lean against a column trying to look like I'm not a psychopath. "Hey James, what's happenin'?"

I swallow, "I think I'm gonna take you up on your offer after all." I answer falling into step with him.

"Deciding to live in the real world after all, huh?" He holds the door open for me.

"Yeah, you could say that."

The receptionist looks up from the romance novel she's reading. "Have a nice night." she calls.

"Eat shit and die." I yell back just before the door closes, making Scott laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

So after finishing the first chapter I started getting a bunch of ideas for a continuation. After a while I figured I'd start writing a second chapter and see how it looked. I liked how this turned out so I uploaded it. I'm hoping everyone enjoys it.

I got a couple complaints in regards to James leaving the hotel with Scott. A few people took this to mean that I had made James gay, but that wasn't my intention. James isn't gay, in my opinion it's an impossibility because of his characterization. Basically he left the hotel with Scott on a whim, but I couldn't think of a good way to convey that. You should also be aware that things get kinda gross at the end of this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill and I'm not making any money off of this.

* * *

I'm sitting in some biker bar with Scott. A glance at the clock informs me that it's 3:30 AM, leaving half an hour until closing time.

The place is shady at best. There are a couple of pool tables near the far wall, accompanied by a pinball machine. The bar is long and feels sticky, kinda like it hasn't been cleaned in months. In fact everything in here looks dirty. The windows are streaked with grime, mud cakes the floor, and the only lighting comes from yellowing bulbs in hanging lamps spread randomly around the space. We've been sitting by ourselves for forty-five minutes; the bartender is probably in the backroom fucking the waitress.

"Sorry again for bringing you here." Scott mutters, "There's not much to do in this area."

"It's no problem," I shrug. "It actually reminds me of the town I was in before coming here."

"Really? Where was that?"

"It's not important." I mutter, remembering Silent Hill all too vividly. "You really don't strike me as the biker type."

Scott shrugs, "I'm not really, not anymore. I used to hang with a biker crowd and I guess you could say that I grew up. But like I said, there's not much to do in this area. So what brought you to town? You got family here?"

"I had some business to conduct near here and this seemed like a halfway decent place to stop for the night." Scott makes a soft sound, signifying that he heard me. "I gotta piss." I say as I stand.

"It's right over there." Scott points to a dim hallway in the corner before turning back to his drink.

I thank him and make my way to the bathroom. The floorboards creek under my weight and some dust actually kicks up with each step I take. I'm already dreading entering the restroom.

It's pitch black when I enter the room and it takes me a moment of groping around the wall to find the light switch. The room floods with fluorescent light and I have to wince and take a moment to adjust to it.

Shockingly the place isn't that bad. It's dirty, but not to the point I thought it would be. One of the stall doors is hanging by one hinge, the other is just a piece of plywood. Two of the three urinals are clearly broken and most of the tiles in the room are cracked. There are streaks of grime visible on the tiling and and I hear a steady dripping from the pipes under the sink; It's probably been like that for a while since there's a puddle inching it's way throughout the room. The mirror is so broken it almost looks like a giant spiderweb.

As I peer into the stall with the plywood door and feel relieved that it isn't covered with shit. I idly read the graffiti as I go about by business. There's the typical barroom fare- for a good time call so-and-so, Joseph is a faggot, and general slander against society. There's a glory-hole cut in the partition between stalls it gives me the impression that Scott probably comes here often.

Once finished I move to the sink and start washing my hands. There's no soap and I feel surprised for a moment before I remember what kind of shit-hole I'm in. As I shake my hands off, since there aren't any fucking towels, some motorcycles pull in. It sounds like there's three of them, but I could be wrong. I don't know the first thing about bikes.

By the time I'm ready to leave the bathroom footsteps sound in the hallway. Scott crashes through the door, he looks clearly upset. "We gotta go man." He huffs, "These guys are bad news."

"Taking candy from kids bad news, or drowning puppies bad news?"

"Drowning puppies then throwing the corpses through the windows at an orphanage bad news."

"That's pretty bad." I say, " Come on, I'm sure there's a back way outta here."

There's raucous laughter coming from the barroom now and one of the men yells something about how much "The fucking spic service here blows!" The others seem to find this hilarious and laugh even louder. Turning to the left I spot the swinging metal doors leading to the kitchen. Scott and I inch our way down the hallway, hoping the bikers don't decide to come looking for the bartender.

After an agonizing amount of creeping we finally reach the doorway. It glides open with ease and we step into the small kitchen."Fuck." I mutter, my eyes going wide at the scene.

The scene of gore stretched out before us turns my stomach until I almost lose it. Scott is bent over, retching next to me as I survey the area. There's a large pile of innards mounded on the stainless steel table in the center of the room. The leaking gastric juices have already started digesting the pile of entrails, leaving a slightly rotten smell wafting through the air. I trace the line of intestine down the counter to see the hollowed out corpse of the waitress sprawled out on the floor, a look of agony and sheer terror cemented on her face. Her ribcage has been split down the middle, her hollow chest-cavity open like a hand reaching for something. After letting the sight of the eviscerated girl soak in I notice the wide, crimson trail leading out the exit. There are scratches in the linoleum and I'm pretty sure that's a fingernail sticking out of one of them.

Scott heaves once more before wiping his mouth. "What could have done this?" He asks me, standing shakily.

"I'd rather not stick around to find out." I answer, stepping over the dead girl like it's nothing. "Can't believe I threw out that radio..." I mumble as Scott slips in the mess behind me. He skids to the ground with a yell, accidentally knocking the filth from the table into his lap. He vomits again, only adding to the already overbearing stench in the small room. I kick the pile of remains off him and give him a hand standing. He's covered almost from head to toe in blood and I definitely feel for him but we need to get out of here now; something tells me that whatever did this is still hanging around.

Walking toward the exit I notice a fire extinguisher sitting near the stove. I pick it up, thinking it could come in handy. "Wait here." I mumble to Scott, "I just wanna see if there's anything we could use."

"Sure thing." Scott answers, leaning against the door frame. He grabs a towel from the nearby counter and makes a half-hearted attempt at cleaning himself off.

As Scott fusses over himself I set to surveying the room for anything of interest. A large knife is sitting on a counter-top, I grab it so that Scott can have a weapon too. After a bit of rummaging I find a big flashlight, the heavy duty kind designed to bludgeon burglars, just in case. I slip it easily into a pocket and continue searching through the kitchen. I still can't believe I got rid of the fucking radio. The whole time I'm ripping apart the kitchen that's the one thing I want to find, the one thing I _hope _to find. Now that shit's going south again I'd like the reassurance of the thing. At least with a radio I'd know if there was a monster around the corner.

"What the fuck is this shit?!" I look up at the exclamation to see a large, leather-clad man stomping into the room. "Scotty-boy!" He grins, his Irish accent getting thicker, more maniacal. "I thought we told you never to show your fucking face around here again." He hasn't noticed me yet, he's too distracted by Scott. "And just look what you've done to pretty little Cherri." He kicks the girl's corpse out of his way as I start inching toward him, crouching to stay out of sight. "I was plannin' on having a good time with her tonight. Looks like I'll have to settle for kicking the shit outta you." The man cracks his knuckles loudly as I creep up behind him. As he reaches for Scott I raise the fire extinguisher above my head. "I'm gonna enjoy thi--" His monologue is cut short as I bring the bright red weapon crashing down on the back of his skull.

The Irishman crumples to the floor with a yelp. As he attempts to hoist himself up again I kick his balls in. He curls up for a moment and I can't decide what to do next. As the man throws up Scott says, "Let's go James. I think he's had enough."

"You two are in for a world of hurt." The man utters, trying once again to get up.

I look down at the weapon in my hands and raise it again. "You might wanna turn around." I whisper to Scott. Once his eyes are averted I crack the guy's head with the bludgeon. He collapses and starts gasping but starts getting up again- so I hit him again. His face collides with the floor and the sound of bone breaking bounces off the walls. He coughs and blood splatters across the floor, the coughing is replaced with a gurgling sound as he struggles to stay conscious. He's clearly going into shock, but I'm not done yet. After flipping the man over to get a better look at his broken face I raise the now dented weapon high above my head and bring it down as if chopping wood. His jaw is shattered by it and a handful of teeth skitter across the floor. The man's eyes are practically bouncing around in their sockets and it sounds like he's trying to say something. That's gotta be hard, considering he's missing the lower part of his face. I swing the fire extinguisher once more and his forehead cracks like an egg, sending bits of brain and bone across the floor.

Scott looks like he has his mouth covered in case he's going to throw up again. In the short silence I notice that I'm gasping for breath; the adrenaline pumping through my system sending shivers down my spine. With a soft squelching sound I pry my weapon from the carcass below me and brush past Scott. He soon falls into step behind me, I hold out the knife. "Here, I found this." He takes it with a sigh and a wolf howls somewhere in the distance.

"Why did you do that?" He whispers as we make our way to his pick-up.

"I had to." My voice sounds huskier than usual and I feel like crawling into a hole to die. I thought I was done with the Silent Hill bullshit and now I'm dreading what I need to do next. "If he told his crew about what he saw in the back they'd have tried to find us." We've reached the car and I move toward the passenger side.

"You drive. I don't feel up to it." Scott says, tossing me the keys and climbing into the car.

After lifting the dented fire extinguisher into the truck bed I climb in and start the engine. "So where do you live?"

He takes a moment to answer, "I umm... I don't feel like being alone right now." Scott is staring at the ground and for the first time I notice that he's breathing heavily.

"Well you really don't wanna be where I'm going." I back the car out of the parking lot and start heading north.

"Where's that?" He mutters, gazing out the window.

I pause and ask myself if I should tell him the truth. "Silent Hill." I answer shakily.

Scott turns to me, "The ghost town?"

"Yeah." I say with a nod and a sigh. "It looks like my business there isn't done yet." We lapse into silence, which isn't surprising. I doubt Scott has ever been through something like this. Seeing a corpse is bad enough, but that girl had been massacred.

"Her name was Shannon." Scott mumbles after a while. I feel confused for a minute before realizing that he's talking about the waitress. "Everyone called her Cherri for some reason that I can't remember. We ah... we went to school together. I used to be a scrawny nerd and nobody wanted anything to do with me. Except for her, she was always nice to everybody no mater what." He falls silent again.

"I'm sorry you had to see her like that." I respond after a moment.

"It's not your fault." He says, turning to me, "I want to help you. I want to punish whatever did that to her and if you think the source if it is in Silent Hill then I want to help you stop it."

I shake my head, "I obviously can't persuade you not to. But when things get weird don't try and say that I didn't warn you."


	3. Chapter 3

Blah blah blah, I don't own Silent Hill, blah blah blah.

* * *

It's dark, really dark, as the truck winds up the road to the town I thought I had left behind me forever. As I drive past the rotting sign welcoming my companion and I to this hell-hole Scott turns his head.

"So why did you have to come here in the first place?" Scott asks as fog quickly covers the road, slithering across the asphalt like so many snakes. I can hear the nervousness in his voice and I wonder for a moment why I would allow someone-- anyone to accompany me to this place. Suddenly, I realize that I haven't answered Scott's question.

I pause, considering my answer. "My wife... died." I begin, "Silent Hill was our 'special place' I just thought it would be nice to visit it once more, but I ran into some trouble so I fixed the problem and left. After I left I realized I screwed up. Do you remember the woman I was at the hotel with?"

Scott shakes his head, "No. The first time I even saw you was when you came in the bar."

"Well I was there with a woman named Maria. She was part of the problem I was talking to you about earlier. That's why I..." Coughing, I reconsider what I am about to say. This man is the only ally I'm going to have in this place and I don't need him to know that I murdered someone earlier today. Hell, I don't even want to tell him about the monsters I fought here. It'll be better if he finds out on his own. "I left her there."

Scott nods, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear about your wife. How did she die?"

_I smothered her, just like Maria._ "She was sick and had been for a while. One night she just kind of slipped away..." I sigh heavily in an effort to make myself seem more sorrowful. I used to be such an honest guy.

Suddenly Scott grabs the wheel "Watch out!" He screams, forcing me to swerve.

I manage to catch a glimpse of something in the road, but don't have time to determine what it is. The car locks up suddenly as it turns and I can already tell that it's about to roll. "Hang on!" I shout as the truck finally flips and tumbles a short distance down the road. Somewhere along the line the air bag goes off my head gets tossed back before it connects with the door frame and I black out.

* * *

Blood, thick and coppery. That's all I can taste as I finally come to. My vision is blurred and I can hear myself wheezing. There is a sharp, throbbing pain in my head. My vision starts to clear up and I idly notice that I'm still in the truck, but the windows are broken. Shards of glass pepper the cabin.

the tree outside are growing backwards-- like they're falling from the sky. At first I think it's just a trick that the town is playing on me. _Or you're upside down in the car fuck head._ I tell myself as memories of the crash flood my mind. I glance to my right, to my surprise Scott isn't there. I'm stuck, due to my seat belt. Without thinking I place a hand on the roof of the cabin to lift myself up a little, inadvertently driving shards of safety glass into it. With a sharp hiss I unbuckle the seat belt and quickly fall from my elevated position. More bits of glass penetrate the flesh of my arms as I begin dragging myself from the wreck. Once free of my metal cocoon I collapse at the pain reeking havoc on my body.

"Holy shit." Says someone to my left. My neck cracks as I turn it, coming face to shin with Scott. He kneels and I notice that he's carrying the knife I gave him earlier tonight-- it's bloody. "I thought you were dead, man. I was trying to wake you up for ten minutes before I left."

I nod in the direction of the knife, "What happened?" I groan.

Scott gathers that I'm talking about the weapon, "Oh this, it happened when the car crashed" He points to the strip of fabric tied around his thigh, it's deep red and his pants are soaked in blood.

I'm feeling a little better now, so I sit up slowly and start picking the shards of glass out of my hand. "Well that wouldn't have happened if you didn't grab the wheel."

"I had to, you were gonna hit that woman!" Now he's just being dramatic, there couldn't have been a woman since nothing here is real. Then again, he doesn't know that. "That's why I left, I was looking for her. I was only gone for half an hour."

"Did you find her?" I ask, making my way to the flipped vehicle. The fire extinguisher I brought from the restaurant is pinned under the tailgate. Even if I could pry the thing out it would be basically useless. I'm disappointed for a moment before I remember the flashlight in my pocket. I fish it out and flip it on, flooding the area with intense light from the halogen bulb.

Shaking his head Scott answers, "Naw, but I couldn't really see with all the fog around here." He waves an arm, indicating the writhing fog concealing god knows what.

"Well we'd better make our way into the town. I need to try to find out where we're headed and something tells me we'll find something there." I start marching off in the direction of the town. Scott hesitates a moment before falling in behind me.

"Don't you think we should turn back and go to the police or something? I mean there's some woman running around alone up here and our car flipped and is lying in the middle of the road." He's limping pretty badly and it takes him a moment to catch up.

"They wouldn't believe us, besides I don't want to bring anyone else into this situation. I was reluctant to bring you here and to be honest that was probably a mistake in and of itself."

"James, I told you, I'm here to get revenge for Cherri. I would have come here with or without you. And I don't get why you're being so cryptic about what happened to you here. It's just a ghost town. I'm sure the worst we'll run into is a raccoon or some bats and I don't know about you, but my rabies shots are up to date." He grins and laughs like a fucking shit head.

I can see the outlines of a couple buildings now, we've just entered main street. The flashlight skims over something deep crimson on the ground to my right. Whirling on Scott I inform him, "Look, don't tell me not to worry, okay? I was here less than a month ago and it was the worst time of my life!" He squints as I shine the light in his eyes, "I had to deal with a homicidal maniac trying to kill me, this little fucking girl who hated me, and... things chasing me all over the place!"

Scott looks like he doesn't believe me, like he knows what the fuck he's talking about. "James, are you okay? You're kinda creepin' me out."

I sigh, "Look." Turning the flashlight I reveal the blood splatter I saw just a moment ago, Scott follows the beam of light. His eyes go wide and the color drains from his face. I let him take in the sight for a moment more before looking at the fresh blood. There is a large splotch of it-- that's the one I originally saw, and it's only the tip of the iceberg. Just beyond it there is an ornate circle drawn on the ground in the same crimson liquid. It looks grossly demonic and fresh. In the center of the circle lies the charred carcass of an adult dog. Spread around it are the puppies that it had probably given birth to just before dying, their heads are nowhere to be found. There is something in the dog's mouth, it too is charred. I step forward to get a better look, it appears the dog's stomach had been cut open and it was in the middle of trying to eat the offal when it was set aflame. Smoke is still trailing from the remains, this happened quite recently. Scott inches up behind me, too speechless to remark on the strange scene. "Weird shit happens here." I finally mutter to him.

We take in the scene for a minute before I notice a small white rectangle sticking out from under the puppy near my right foot. Kicking the corpse to the side I pick it up and read it. The print across the top of the small paper square reads: Silent Hill Public Li.... The blood on the card obscures the last word, but anyone who completed grade school English would know the last five letters. I grin before I set of down the road. "Come on," I say, "We're going to the library."


End file.
